Anchor (Widowtracer)
by NeppyTheDork
Summary: Can Lena Oxton, proud member of Overwatch, fulfill the final wish of the person she loves the most? Or will she perish trying?
1. Chapter 1: Lena's Anchor

Safety. That word meant little to nothing nowadays. At least, it meant little to nothing for Lena Oxton. The place where she had felt safest was now a nightmare, the safest place for her now was a prison.  
The accident had taken everyone by surprise, although looking back on the day it should've to have. They had asked her to drive a vehicle that had never been tested before, one that could warp spacetime. What could go wrong with that?  
Nothing, Lena had thought at first. She was just excited to fly for the prestigious organization that was Overwatch. It was the sort of opportunity she had been waiting for her whole life. She had never imagined this. Being stuck in a tiny capsule, with a few windows, unable to leave, wondering when she was going to disappear again. She had been assured, time after time, that they would find a solution but it had been two months and nothing. Doctor Angela Ziegler had performed various tests, others had helped her. They had tried several physical and mechanical solutions. Yet, every time Lena thought it'd work out she would disappear, whisked away into another timeline, trapped in the unknown. This tiny prison of hers became her home, a living nightmare. Stuck day after day, waiting to disappear. As much as they claimed the room would help keep her anchor she knew, she knew it was only a matter of time until she disappeared once more.  
There was one day, however, where things got better.  
Lena was just sitting there, hugging her legs, leaning against a metallic wall. She wore gray overalls and pink fluffy slippers. She couldn't feel the cold of her prison, she couldn't feel anything at all. Not on a physical level at least.  
Knock knock knock.  
Lena's face shot up as she heard the knocking on the wall. The Brit got up and cautiously walked to one of the windows. It was the doctor, smiling as always. She was wearing a white lab coat above a black turtleneck, jeans, and sneakers. Lena had grown used to her visits, yet this time she frowned. Something was different, the doctor seemed happy. She wasn't faking her smile, as she always did, she was genuinely happy.  
Why?  
"Good morning, Lena," Angela said cheerfully. "How are you feeling?"  
"No, ah, episodes today doc," Lena replied, shrugging. "I suppose that's good. How about yourself?"  
"I'm doing well, lots of work as always. We're making progress with the chronal anchor, by the way," Angela chirped. But there it was, that forced tone, the voice that let Lena knew she was lying.  
"Ha, sure thing Doc," Lena answered bitterly, sitting back down but still in view of the window. "Are we doing more tests today?"  
"No, not today, I'm actually here with a visitor," the doctor announced. "Do you mind if I open the door? It will be a quick moment, that's all."  
"Are...are you sure? I haven't had any moments today and opening that door-"  
"The door does not affect how often or not you...leave," Angela cut in. "I've already explained that. I understand you feel safer in there, but the truth is you are just as safe walking outside as sitting around. Opening this door for two seconds and letting your visitor in won't affect you. Besides," Angela's smile turned coy. "wouldn't you like to see your new visitor?"  
Lena thought about it for a few seconds, then walked over to the opposite end of the room and nodded at Angela. She might be afraid of opening the prison gates, but she was curious as to who this visitor was. She had no friends here, having left the people she knew back in the army or back home in London. Besides Angela, very few Overwatch agents had seen her. The ones who had visited only did so to question her or study her.  
The Brit cringed as the door slowly opened but stood her ground. Angela's smile grew and she playfully waved at Lena, then waved another figure forward. Lena's fear melted, replaced with sudden surprise and a nervous feeling. The door closed, leaving the two people stuck inside. Lena felt her cheeks flush, and wanted to look away but couldn't.  
Her new companion was absolutely gorgeous, a real killer. Tall, slim, with long purple hair and fair skin. The woman had amber eyes, a small, polite smile and a face that made Lena's heart race. She wore simple clothing, jeans, a white tank top and heels, but everything about her screamed "royalty".  
"Bonjour, my name is Amelie," The other said politely, cautiously extending a hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you."  
"H-hi," Lena stammered, her blush growing. She bit her tongue and firmly shook Amelie's hand. "Hello, um, thanks for visiting. Do I know you?"  
"I believe we have not met," Amelie replied. Oh, how Lena suddenly loved her thick French accent. "But my husband Gerard has met you, he is working desperately to find a solution to your...condition."  
As soon as she heard this, Lena went back to normal. Her blush subsided, her heart slowed down, she sighed and sat back down, suddenly unable to look the Frenchwoman in the eye.  
"I've met Gerard, he ran some tests and all," Lena finally mumbled. "But why are you here?"  
"I've been told about your situation. I had nothing to do today so I decided to come provide you with some company," Amelie answered, smiling in a very friendly way. She walked over to a window and sat by it, her back straight, one leg crossed over the other. "It must get lonely, in here."  
"Sometimes," Lena admitted. "And I appreciate the thought love, I really do, but you don't have to stick around. Odds are I'll disappear in the middle of our chit chat." Lena chuckled bitterly at that.  
"Your problem isn't the chronal disassociation, Lena," Amelie said firmly. The Brit shot her a glare, Brit's questioning this. "Right now, your problem is you. How can anyone heal when all they have are bitter, negative thoughts?"  
"Well, what am I supposed to think!" Lena suddenly yelled, jumping to her feet. "There is nothing positive about this situation!" She balled her fists, looking around the prison. "I'm stuck her, waiting until I finally disappear into some other timeline where anything could happen, knowing I'll eventually die. To make matters worse I can't see my friends or family and I can't feel anything!" To prove her point, Lena shoved a hand into the metal wall. It went right through, like a ghost.  
"See? All negative, you need to look at the bright side," Amelie insisted.  
"What bright side could there possibly be?!" The Brit demanded, leaning forward in a challenging way.  
"Just think about it, you are the first time traveler," The other suggested, hand on her chin as she looked at the roof thoughtfully. "Lena Oxton, the brave English pilot that flew the Slipstream and was lost to time, only to return months laters with scattered memories of the past. Our first pilgrim in time travel! The children would love you."  
Lena couldn't help it. The way Amelie acted, the way she spoke it, everything about her was just so warm and kind and positive. Slowly, very slowly, Lena opened her hands and laughed. It was small at first, soft, but then it grew louder, louder and louder until she was literally hugging her stomach and tearing up. She sat next to Amelie, finally wiping a tear and facing her cellmate.  
"You're not wrong, besides, Lena Oxton is a good name for a time traveler, right?" She asked.  
"Very good name," Amelie agreed with mock seriousness. "All the girls will want to be like you. Maybe the boys will too."  
Lena laughed again, and they continued this for the rest of the morning and the better part of the afternoon. The two talked, told stories, made jokes. Lena learned Amelie was a world famous ballet dancer who had married Gerard before he joined Overwatch. Amelie learned that Lena had been a pilot for the military, recruited by Overwatch. The two women were content to stick together and talk, especially Lena. She hadn't realized it until now but she had missed human contact, craved it, wanted it. Now that she had it, she really didn't want this person to leave her. Not yet.  
"Lena? Lena, are you listening?" Amelie asked, leaning closer to the Brit, who blushed in response. She had been staring, completely forgetting the conversation they were having.  
"Y-yeah, my bad," Lena answered sheepishly. "I was just- Ah, trying to see something. You got a little thing on your face-"  
She tried to remove the "thing" (there wasn't actually anything on the ballerina, Lena just wanted to excuse her staring) and this proved to be a mistake. Her hand passed through Amelie's face, causing the other to shiver and for Lena to automatically pull back.  
"Lena-"  
"Sorry, love," Lena apologized quietly, looking away. God, she wanted to feel. She wanted to hold Amelie, to feel the warmth of her body, the kindness of her touch, anything. She hated being unable to touch anyone-  
"Lena..."  
-hated not being able to feel like a normal human being should-  
"Lena-"  
-hated being so separated and for having this bloody condition-  
"Lena!" Amelie yelled, shaking the Brit out of her thoughts. "Lena calm down!"  
"W-what, Amelie I'm fine, sorry-"  
"You're disappearing!" Amelie yelled frantically.  
Lena looked down at herself to discover that her new friend was right. Her body was flickering, like a broken lightbulb, in and out of existence. Lena's heart began to race, her hands to shake, her breathing grew faster and more panicky.  
"Lena, Lena please calm down," Amelie pleaded, standing up and right in front of the brit. "Look at me, right in the eyes, Lena, focus on me."  
Lena did as told, but her body kept flickering, faster by the moment, it wasn't just bits of her anymore it was the whole thing. Her eyes widened and she stared at Amelie, tearing up.  
"Lena, keep your eyes on me! You're going to be fine, Cherie. Understand? Fine," Amelie yelled. "Control your breathing, slowly in, slowly out. Oui? Slowly in, slowly out."  
"I-I'm going to disappear again, I'm about to leave-"  
"Focus on me Lena, I am your anchor."  
"There is no anchor!" Lena screamed, terrified. Tears began to fall down her cheeks and she sobbed. "I can't feel anything or anyone, I'll disappear, maybe for good this time. There's no fighting it."  
"Lena Oxton, look at me," Amelie demanded in her fiercest voice.  
Lena Oxton slowly looked up, surprised to feel two strong hands grab the side of her face and pull her close. She yelped with even more surprise as her lips clashed with Amelie's. Her mind went completely blank and her arms wrapped around the taller woman's neck, her eyes closed, everything turned to bliss. Amelie pulled away, smiling widely.  
"See? You're still here, anchored," Amelie whispered, wrapping her arms tighter around the brit's waist.  
"I...I felt it, I feel you. Amelie, I can feel you," Lena exclaimed, smiling widely. She pulled herself tightly against the other and pressed her face against Amelie's neck.  
The ballerina gently used a finger to raise her chin, smiled back at the young woman in front of her-  
Then felt her heart drop as Lena completely disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2: Assasin's Birth

It had been years. Years since she had met Amelie since she had disappeared from that woman's arms, since she had felt so happy in such a dark moment.  
Lena had, eventually, returned. Winston had met her, told her his plans, and saved her life. But during the time that he worked with her before she was actually safe, Lena and Amelie had grown so much closer. The ballet dancer always seem shook from their first experience yet she had tried so hard to forget it, to be a signal of strength for Lena. To many, their quick affection had been quite odd. The highly sophisticated, incredibly beautiful and smart French ballerina with the hyperactive, scruffy, adventurous pilot? They had nearly nothing in common, mere chance had brought them together.

Lena didn't quite understand it either. Not until the day Amelie had disappeared herself.

Much like Lena, Amelie had her own disappearance. At the time it had broken Lena's heart. She and her friend's husband, Gerard, had shared a fair amount of tears. Talon, those bastards, had stolen their friend to do God knows what to her. Everyone in Overwatch knew Talon wasn't particularly nice to captives. Ever since Overwatch had recovered their first Talon captives they had done their best to lose no one else. But an attack on a civilian related to Overwatch? It had always been a possibility, precautions had been made, yet it had never occurred until now.

Then one day Amelie reappeared. Overwatch uncovered intelligence, thanks to Gerard himself, that several people kidnapped by Talon were being kept in a base in London, right in Lena's backyard! The Brit herself had led the assault that saved those captives. She had burst straight through the front door, taken out several enemy soldiers within seconds, and had blown away the lock of the holding cells, dashed inside and embraced Amelie.

"It's ok Amelie," She whispered, more so to herself than the ballerina. "I'm here, you're safe."

Amelie didn't react for a solid minute, then finally she wrapped her arms around Tracer and pressed her face against the Brit. She said nothing. Lena had decided to take her to safety then get the rest, the entire raid was incredibly successful. Lena rode home in silence, watching her comrades cheer...and watching Amelie curl into a ball in her seat staring at nothing.

But this wasn't the disappearance I had mentioned before, no. Amelie had been rescued, all was well, right?

Wrong.

"Ugh..." Lena groaned, two weeks after the raid to rescue Amelie. She couldn't seem to fall asleep tonight.

Her dorm was, compared to most, quite posh. Lena had taken it upon herself to get rid of the dull furniture that Overwatch provided and buy her own replacements that suited her taste. Against the rules? Yes, definitely. But with Winston's help, they managed to sneak everything in. Her bed was shoved in a corner, surrounded by a mess of laundry. Her closet was filled with both civilian and military clothes, a desk with a computer on top and a chair sat by the window, giving a dazzling view to the city that this Overwatch base overlooked, somewhere in Sweden. Lena herself was wearing yellow shorts and a yellow t-shirt that opened up so her chronal accelerator could pop through. She walked around barefoot, liking the feeling of the carpet.

She walked for a good five minutes, pacing in circles, unsure what to do. She knew why she couldn't sleep: Amelie. Ever since the rescue that women had occupied every moment of Lena's life. The Brit wanted to go talk to her, embrace her, cry on her shoulder or hold Amelie as she cried. She just wanted to be with her for crying out loud.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Lena knew that, for their protection, Gerard and Amelie were living here. Hell, she even knew what room they were sharing. Convincing herself that she was going for nothing more than a midnight walk, Lena walked out of her room and in direction of the ballerina's. Everything was silent, minus the soft sound of her bare feet against the floor. Guards were walking around here and there, each time they passed Lena they gave her a respectful nod.  
The Brit was almost to her destination, she could see the door when someone rounded the corner. It was Commander Morrison, looking as tough and as serious as ever. He was wearing sweatpants, a tank top, and fluffy bunny slippers. (Had it been anyone but Commander Morrison Lena would've had a good laugh at that. It was quite funny to see her superior officer wearing those.

"Can't sleep, Oxton?" He asked, smiling dryly as they drew close. She smiled more brightly and gave him a half-assed salute.

"No sir, I just kept thinking about my favorite commander and wanted to go see him," She replied.

"Ha, kiss ass," He remarked, shaking his head and smiling wider. It disappeared fast. "Why are you here, Lena?"

"Just walking around, sir-"

"Is that the only reason you came through here?" He asked again, more sternly. Lena was about to fumble her way out of this one when she heard glass break, it had come from Amelie's room. The two agents turned their eyes to the door as it opened.

"What the..." Lena muttered.

It was Amelie, wearing nothing more than a thin white nightgown that was only somewhat paler than her own pale skin. The ballerina's amber eyes were full of anger or shock, Lena couldn't which, and her dark hair was flowing down her back. But what really caught their eyes was the blood. Blood all over Amelie's arms, some splattered on her neck and face, and plenty painting her hands red. Amelie's eyes met Lena's and she dashed off, dropping something.

"Oh no..." Morrison muttered, then louder. "No no no no!"

Lena watched him dash into the bedroom, then followed in a single blink. What she saw made her gasp, it froze her heart. On the single bed of the room lay Gerard, his body covered in blood, his neck sliced several times.

Dead.

"Private Oxton," Commander Morrison said, turning to her. His eyes showed nothing but rage. "Don't let her get away."

Lena's eyes met her commander's and that was all she needed to shake out of it. She snapped a quick salute and blinked out of the room, then down the hall in the direction Amelie was heading. Yet, somehow, Lena knew she wasn't going to harm Amelie in any way. She was worried.

Gunshots came down another hall and Lena blinked in that direction. Once, twice, three times. She finally saw Doctor Ziegler there, crouched next to a wounded guard.

"Lena, Amelie has gone mad!" Ziegler barked, pointing down the hall. "She's heading for the roof, go!"

Lena didn't need to be told twice. She dashed down the halls faster than she ever had before, a streak of neon blue light. Nothing would stop her, not the people she dodged, not the image of dead Gerard in her head, not the limited charge in her chronal accelerator. She just had to get to Amelie.

Finally, the Brit blinked up a final flight of stairs and she found her target. Amelie, standing by the edge of the roof, looking down.

"Don't move!" Lena yelled, her concern obvious. "Please, Amelie, don't move!"

"Turn around," The dancer said, her voice shaky. Scared. "Please, just turn around leave me."

"Amelie, what happened? Was it Talon-"

"It was me!" The other yelled, balling her fists.

"Amelie, I don't know what's going on," Lena said carefully, taking a step forward. "But you can trust me, you know you can trust me. I'll always be here for you, yeah?"

"Please, Lena, it's not so simple-"

"I don't care, I swear I'll help you," The Brit cut in, blinking in front of the woman. "I swear it on my life."

"Why do you care so much about me?" Amelie whispered, her voice cracking.

"I love you," Lena Oxton said, clear and firm, with as much certainty as she could muster. She hadn't thought of her feelings as love before, but she knew they were the truth the moment she spoke them. "I love you, Amelie."

"As do I, Lena Oxton," Amelie whispered, suddenly pulling Lena close and pressing their lips together.

It was a short kiss, yet full of passion and love and bitterness from both of them as if somehow they both knew what was going to happen next. Finally, Amelie pulled away, just an inch.

"This is the last time you will see Amelie," Widowmaker whispered. "If you love me, then next time we meet you must do me a favor. You must kill me."

"Wha- No!"

"Goodbye, _mon cherie_ ," Widowmaker said, pushing Lena away and letting herself fall off the rooftop.

Lena immediately blinked forward, and she would've blinked off the building too if it meant saving her beloved, but when she looked down the side of the building she saw nothing.

Amelie was gone.


	3. Chapter 3: Widow's Kiss

You must kill me.

Those words buzzed inside Lena's head for a long, long time. For a short time, she had stopped being the happy, energetic Tracer the world has known her for. She still did her work and did it superbly, but something within her had changed. She didn't do it for the people as she once would have. No, she did it for revenge.

Of course, those feelings slowly began to dissipate. Lena always thirsted for revenge, but she realized that wasn't the path she wanted to choose. She was a hero, she had to act like one. Slowly, but surely, the old Lena Oxton began to return.

Then the Overwatch headquarters blew up.

It was all a blur, something that had happened much too fast for even herself to keep track of, but in such a short time everything she had worked for and everything she knew had vanished. Commander Morrison was dead, Overwatch was dismantled and its members scattered to the vast regions of the planet. What could Lena do when such a terrible thing had happened? The answer was simple: Keep fighting.

And she did, she fought year after year against anyone she had to. Thugs on the street, the occasional villain with powers they had somehow acquired, even Talon every now and then. It had turned into something normal for her, her new life. Yet this wasn't meant to be because once more everything was turned upside down, but for the better. Winston made the recall and Lena finally, after years and years of searching, found Amelie.  
"Looks like the party is over," Widowmaker had said, smirking, her skin purple. No longer the person Lena had once loved. No, now she was a monster. Murdering such a good soul in public, and countless others too.

That's why Lena was here, at Winston's little home, ready to head out again.

"Lena, you're not ready to-"

"Do you have her located?" The Brit cut in, putting on her recently repaired chronal accelerator. Winston sighed.

"Yes, but you're in no condition to go after her."

"You didn't see her like I did, big guy," Lena murmured, her eyes filling with anguish. "They turned her into a monster. She killed Mondatta and was proud of it." She took a deep breath, turning to face her hairy companion before he could complain. "Before Amelie left, the real Amelie, she asked me one thing."

"To...kill her?" He questioned hesitantly.

"Yes, and now I know why. Winston, I...I can't let Widowmaker get away. For Amelie, and for others."

"I understand," He huffed. "But you don't need to do it alone."

"I have to!" Lena yelled, balling her fists and clenching her teeth. "I'm not waiting for Helix Security, or the FBI or some rubbish to put her in jail! Or- Or experiment on her! I'm going to fulfill Amelie's final wish."

She took a deep breath then turned towards the exit.

"I'm going to kill her."

/

A few hours later she had arrived. Talon must have been planning Mondatta's murder for awhile because the base Tracer had found was relatively small and the people here seemed in a hurry to leave. Lena was observing them from a hill, hidden in the darkness of the night. The base itself was a bunker of sorts built straight into the hill across from her. They must not have expected spies because the front entrance was wide open.  
Now was her chance.

Lena had never gone so fast in her entire life, and that was saying a lot. The normal neon blue streak that normally followed her wasn't there, she was just too fast for anyone to even see that. Her pistols lit up and enemies began to fall. One, two, three, five, eight, ten. All dead. Lena paused a moment, reloaded, and then blinked out of incoming fire. The enemy looked around with panic and confusion, falling one by one to their seemingly invisible attacker.

Lena had never been faster and she had never felt duller. The only things that ravaged her mind were anger and sadness. Yes, she was here to kill Widowmaker once and for all. But these people, Talon, were responsible for all this. If only they would all die.

The Brit clenched her teeth, appearing in front of one man and mowing him down, blinking into another and knocking him to the ground, then above a third and kicking him in the face. She turned to see more had assembled by a truck. Her face must have been more severe than even she realized because they all faltered, one nearly dropping his gun.

"What are you idiots doing?" The squad leader yelled, raising his rifle. "Fire!"

In a split second Tracer noticed the red barrel by the truck. She blinked forward, dodging the bullets, fired once into the barrel and then recalled back away. The entire truck exploded and engulfed the enemy soldiers in a fiery inferno. Lena was breathing hard, quite tired. She looked around and, with a shock, realized they were all dead. Nobody else outside here was alive.

Click.

Lena moved her head an inch to the left, letting a bullet pass so close to her head she felt the wind it created. She'd recognize the sound of that rifle anywhere. It was her, Widowmaker. Lena turned around to see the woman perched on a catwalk right at the entrance of the bunker, her face as calm as ever. The trigger was pulled again but Lena easily side-stepped the bullet. Even Widowmaker couldn't match her reaction time, her pure speed.

"Time to end this," Lena murmured, holstering her pistols.

She clenched her fists, grit her teeth and then dashed straight towards the sniper. A split second later the two women were a rolling mess. One over the other, the two of them fighting for control of the rifle. Finally, they stopped. Widowmaker on top of Lena, her beautiful face looking frustrated and perhaps even confused.

"You are a foolish girl," The widow hissed, her arms shaking in an attempt to overpower Lena.

"Yeah, you're right," She agreed. "I should've killed you years ago. Just like you wanted, Amelie."

"That woman is dead!" Widowmaker snarled.

"And soon you'll join her!" Lena replied, just as angry.

She used both her feet and firmly kicked Widowmaker off of her. The woman rolled back and onto her feet, eyes narrowing at Tracer who simply tossed the rifle away, off the catwalk. Their eyes met and, much to Widowmaker's surprise, Lena was tearing up.

"Quoi...?" She murmured, letting her guard down for one second.

Lena sprung into action, she blinked forward and tackled Widowmaker to the ground. One punch, two punches, three punches. White hot pain traveled through the widow's face before she grabbed Lena's fist, then the other, both their arms shaking as they tried to overpower the other.

"Why did you come?" Widowmaker questioned, clenching her teeth.

"To keep my promise, Amelie, don't you remember?" She whispered back.

All of a sudden, yes, she did remember. It was like a short flashback but Widowmaker could remember her first task. It was as clear as the sky on a summer day. She was on the roof, ready to escape when Lena had caught up to her. She was worried, oh so worried, and Amelie had made one final plea.

If you love me, then next time we meet you must do me a favor. You must kill me.

Goodbye, mon cherie.

Widowmaker was whipped back to the present. She hadn't realized how, or when, but her arms had gone limp and Lena was pointing a single pistol at the assassin's head. Widowmaker stared into the other's eyes, and she saw nothing but sad determination.

"I remember...that night," Widowmaker murmured. "I did tell you to kill me."

"I finally understood why. Last night, when you killed Mondatta," Lena whispered, tears falling down her cheeks. "Amelie would never do that. She's gone."

"Do it," Widowmaker whispered, leaning up and pressing her forehead against the weapon.

One.

Two.

Three.

Lena's arm fell down, so did her face, she began sobbing.

"I loved you, Amelie," She said between sobs. "God I loved you."

"I know, cherie, I know."

Slowly, the widow wrapped her arms around Lena. The Brit didn't hesitate, she embraced Widowmaker and began crying on her shoulder. It was all too much, she couldn't do this, she couldn't possibly do this. It was just too much, she loved this woman.

"I'm sorry, Lena Oxton," Widowmaker whispered into her ear.

Suddenly, a river of pain filled Lena's side as Widowmaker drove a sharp piece of scrap metal into it. Lena's mouth opened in silent agony, unable to pull out of the widow's deadly embrace. She could feel one hand softly stroke her hair.

"It'll all be over soon, Lena," Widowmaker said.

"I love you, Amelie," Lena choked out.

Those were her final words.

Widowmaker had imagined killing this nuisance a thousand times, she had been waiting years for this moment, she had expected to relish in it. Her finest kill. Yet, when she finally pulled the improvised weapon out of the Brit's body, when she finally felt her heart stop beating, when she finally knew the deed was done...she finally felt something. An emotion in her emotionless heart.

Dread.

"Oh no...no no no no no," She kept repeating, over and over again. Her head now had a splitting headache. She groaned in pain. "Lena, Lena I'm sorry, i-it wasn't me. Sil vous plait, Lena, they made me."

Now it was Amelie's turn to cry, clinging to the body of her dead lover.

The woman she had killed.


End file.
